


It's My Job, Right?

by Kadysn



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Caring!Dean, Drabble, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Gen, sick!Sam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-05
Updated: 2015-04-05
Packaged: 2018-03-21 10:24:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3688689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kadysn/pseuds/Kadysn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam's sick, and Dean takes his role of caring big brother seriously. </p><p>Ficlet/long drabble. Word count: 429</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's My Job, Right?

**Author's Note:**

> I've been under the weather this weekend with a cold, and would love to have my very own Dean to baby me. Since that's not possible, I'll let him take care of Sam.

“It's My Job, Right?”

 

As soon as Sam stepped into the kitchen, Dean understood one immutable fact - his brother was sick. It was more than just the way Sam was dressed – in loose black track pants and a stretched out gray t-shirt – or how his hair was standing out in every which way on one side and flat on the other, or that his face was flushed with fever. It was all these signs and more. After a lifetime of taking care of his Sammy, Dean could read his brother like an open book with one glance, and after studying Sam for a long moment, Dean rose from where he was sitting at the table, a steaming mug of coffee in front of him, crossed the room and grasped Sam by the upper arm. “C'mon, Sammy. Back to bed. You look like shit, dude.”

Sam held firm for a moment, but being unsteady on his feet, allowed Dean to tug him along behind him. “D'n--” His voice was clearly nasal from congestion before he curled his shoulders in and, turning his face into his right elbow, coughed raggedly. “Don' wanna go back t'bed.”

Dean couldn't hold back a soft smile. No matter how old or tall his brother got, when he was sick, Sam was still whiny and grumpy. “I know, Sammy, but that's where you're goin'.” Raising the level of teasing in his voice to an 11, Dean added, “If you're a good boy, when I go on a supply run, I'll grab some of those frozen fruit bars for you.”

Sam looked over at Dean. “The organic, strawberry ones?” Even feverish, he gave Dean his classic puppy eyes.

Dean nodded and chuckled. “Yeah, Sam, I'll get you the strawberry ones. D'you think you can swallow 'em down?” By this time, they'd made their way back into Sam's room, and after pulling the blanket back, Dean helped guide Sam back down onto the bed and covered him up to his shoulders.

No more than was Sam's head on the pillow than he released a loud, wet sneeze.

Dean looked toward Sam's desk, hoping to find a box of Kleenex or something, only to find the box sitting there was empty. “Apparently, I need to add snot rags to the list, Sammy. Anything else you want?”

Sam merely mumbled before he was asleep once more.

Reaching down, Dean swept a lock of sweaty hair off Sam's forehead before whispering softly, “Sleep, baby brother. I'll take care of you, like always. It's my job, right?”


End file.
